


neon bathroom lights

by crimsun



Category: NCT (Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkwardness, Bathrooms, Blood, Confessions, First Meetings, Fluff, Food mentions, M/M, Minor Injuries, Pining, awkward everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:01:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26439151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsun/pseuds/crimsun
Summary: Chan meets Mark Lee in the Show! Music Core bathroom. Then they keep running into each other. It's kind of frustrating, but even the way Mark's eyes catch the weirdly neon bathroom lights makes Chan gravitate towards him.
Relationships: Lee Chan | Dino/Mark Lee (NCT)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 106
Collections: A Sip of Summer Wine





	neon bathroom lights

**Author's Note:**

> hi! first, thank you to the lovely mods for hosting this fest, I truly had a blast writing this! please do ignore the timeline, it's a little weird and I didn't really pay attention to it as I wrote, but the story happens in the span of a few months and in a recent, covid-less world. that aside, hope you enjoy ;) 
> 
> prompt number: SW102  
> prompt description: Chan runs into Mark Lee in the bathroom, and then they keep running into each other. Mark is kind of annoying, and annoyingly sexy.

Chan meets Mark Lee in the _Show! Music Core_ bathroom.

Mark barges into the bathroom, barely avoiding slamming the door against the wall, and runs straight for the urinals without even sparing Chan a glance. Usually, it wouldn't bother him, except for the fact that Mark decides to use the urinal _right_ next to his. When there are five other perfectly working urinals in the bathroom. 

Silently, Chan tries to urge his body to pee faster. Just when he's about to zip his pants and possibly make a run for it, an awkward laugh sounds out next to him.

"Oh," Mark says, voice echoing loudly against the bathroom tiles. It only serves to add to Chan's mild annoyance and growing headache. Why is this man talking to him while they pee _right next to each other_? "Sorry, man. Didn't see you there."

Willing his blood pressure not so skyrocket at the sheer absurdity of the situation, Chan tries his best to keep his eyes trained on the wall before him. His voice is flat when he answers, "No problem."

Mark either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore the hint of distaste in Chan's voice as he finishes his own business, quickly making his way over to the sink. He sends Chan a sheepish smile through the mirror while he washes his hands, then exits without another word, leaving Chan in a daze as he walks over to the sink himself. It takes almost half an hour for him to notice that he never even zipped his pants. 

As far as first impressions go, Mark Lee doesn't make a very good one. 

It's not too long before Mark has the chance to make a second impression. 

Not even a week later Chan finds himself in the _Inkigayo_ bathroom, thoroughly washing his hands when a stall door opens behind him and out walks Mark Lee, tucking his dress shirt into his pants. Chan suppresses the urge to roll his eyes, instead letting them wander. Despite how annoying the guy may seem, Mark has a really nice body, broad shoulders and a narrow waist, only accentuated by the belt he's wearing. 

"Oh, hey!" he exclaims, flashing Chan a smile when they lock eyes through the mirror and Chan fights hard not to blush. He has a nice smile, too. Fuck. 

"I didn't introduce myself the other day, right?" Mark says next, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck. "Sorry, I was kind of in a rush."

 _It's not like you need one_ , Chan thinks. It's not like many people didn't know Mark Lee, SM's prodigy and pro-debuter, but apart from that their groups have promoted together a few times. And he is sure Junhui and Minghao are friends with his friends. But, Chan has introduced himself and been introduced to many people he already knew and who already knew him. Nuances of the industry. So, he clears his throat and says, "No worries. I'm Lee Chan."

"Mark Lee," he grins, extending his hand before quickly retracting it. A soft blush decorates his cheeks as he walks over to the sink furthest from him.

 _Too bad he didn't extend this courtesy to the urinals_.

"I should wash my hands first, shouldn't I?" Mark asks shyly, giggling softly despite the clear tension between them. Pushing past his annoyance, Chan can only think of one word: _cute_.

After their first and second encounter came a third, and then a fourth, and then a fifth until it seemed like Chan can’t go into a single bathroom without catching sight of Mark Lee. None of their interactions go past the awkward 'hi' and many failed attempts at small talk, and even though Chan can't seem to fully shake the initial annoyance he felt towards Mark, he can't deny that he finds him attractive. 

Something about every awkward giggle and bashful, embarrassed smile makes Chan's heart start beating painfully against his ribcage, his chest ache and his breath stutter. Even the way Mark's eyes catch the weirdly neon bathroom lights, making them sparkle with what he can only interpret as earnesty, makes Chan gravitate towards him. It's starting to get a little frustrating. 

After another slightly disastrous bathroom encounter, which may have entailed dripping soap all over the sink, Chan marches into SEVENTEEN's _Music Bank_ waiting room and sinks into the couch. He hopes the universe would do him a favor and let him melt into the hard cushions. 

"What's wrong with your face?" asks Seungkwan from the other side of the couch. His phone is in his hands, but his headphones have now been abandoned on his lap. 

"Nothing," Chan grumbled, picking up the cushion closest to him and shoving his face into it. It feels like rubbing his cheeks against sandpaper.

After a moment, the couch shifts beside him. Suddenly a warm thigh presses to his and the pillow is being gently pried from his death grip. "Boy trouble?" Seungkwan asks teasingly.

Chan feels his eyes widen in mortification. "No."

Seungkwan just raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe," Chan says hesitantly, reclaiming his grip on the cushion. He buries his face into it, hoping that the material swallows his next words. "How do you know if you have a crush?" 

"Oh, Channie," Seungkwan sighs, patting the back of his head. He seemed entirely too amused by Chan's suffering for his liking. "You already know the answer to that. Besides, if it's about Mark Lee, I'm sure he feels the same way. He was hanging out near the door earlier."

This makes Chan immediately sit up straight. "Really?"

Seungkwan snickers and Chan immediately slumps back into his cushion. "You're just making fun of me, aren't you?" 

"What, no!" Seungkwan exclaims, but he seems to be having a hard time controlling his expression. He clamps a hand on Chan's shoulder. "I saw him, I promise. I just think your crush is so cute," he finishes, moving to pinch Chan's cheeks.

Chan rolls his eyes, shoving Seungkwan away, though he can’t help but smile at the familiar bickering. "Okay, okay, fine. I believe you. But, what am I supposed to do about it?" he whines.

Seungkwan pats his shoulder, though there is little reassurance in the action. "You'll get there eventually," he says, then proceeds to forcefully shove an earbud inside Chan's ear. "Now come watch this with me."

Chan doesn't even get a chance to process his complicated relationship with Mark, because from one day to the other, his luck with finding Mark Lee in any available bathroom within the vicinity seems to vanish. It shouldn't surprise him as much as it does, considering the fact that NCT's promotions had to end at _some_ point, but the strange taste of disappointment still coats his tongue every time he walks out of a music broadcast station without even a glimpse of those broad shoulders and handsome face. 

Eventually, SEVENTEEN's promotional period comes to an end as well and between preparations for their next comeback and the odd festival the company sends them to perform at, Chan barely has the time to keep entertaining his little crush. After some time, Chan convinces himself that it had been nothing but a passing thing, some sort of infatuation stemming from a weird first meeting and constant exposure. 

Until they perform at the Dream Concert. 

It is, by far, one of the biggest venues they had performed in recently, if the size of the crowd was anything to go by, and Chan is absolutely thriving from it. The screams pump him full of adrenaline, making it hard to focus on anything but the feeling of the stage thrumming beneath his feet and the wind blowing his hair into his face as he finds the perfect moment to wink or smile or throw a kiss into the crowd. 

It's so easy to get caught up in the exhilaration of it all, fanchants turning into ambient noise as he focuses on the pretty glow of the lightsticks as they move in sync, that Chan almost doesn't notice his ear is bleeding. But as the small, uncomfortable feeling at the back of his head slowly grows into a stabbing pain, it gets hard to ignore. Eventually, Chan feels something much warmer than sweat trickle down his neck and a hand discreetly brought up to dab at his ear provides all the confirmation he needs: it’s bleeding. And, judging from the looks Joshua keeps sending him, it’s pretty evident. 

Chan tries to hold it off as much as he can, but eventually Seungcheol comes close enough to be able to push him towards the back of the stage, not without warning him with a pointed look. Clearly, he isn’t allowed to come back until the bleeding has stopped. 

Chan shuffles carefully off the stage, but the adrenaline of being in front of the crowd was already wearing off, making everything around him fuzzy around the edges. He is about halfway down the stairs when the extent of the pain truly hits him. In the darkness beneath the stage he can feel his ear pulsating along with his heartbeat, the warm trickle of blood extending ways past his ear and all the way down to his neck.

Although he can barely feel his hands, Chan makes quick work of removing his in-ears and un-hooking his mic, slinging it around his neck. Thankfully, it doesn't seem to make the pain any worse. Carefully, Chan makes the rest of the way down the stairs, mindful not to trip among the darkness and the buzzing in his own ears. At the very last step, he looks up in search of one of the staffs, only to come face to face with Mark Lee. It sends a spike of adrenaline shooting down his spine. 

Suddenly, the feeling is back in his limbs and everything in the room seems sharper, fuzziness long gone as he stares into Mark's wide, sparkly, _worried_ eyes while they dart from the side of his head all the way down to his neck and — _oh_. Chan's ear.

"Are you okay?" Mark asks, voice loud and clear despite the loud thrum of music and the cheers above them.

Chan works hard to swallow the reflexive ' _yes_ ' that crawls its way up his throat. "Uh, not really? My mic cut my ear, I think," he says, bringing a hand up to pinch his earlobe. It doesn’t do much for the pain, but it brings him a little sense of comfort. .

With great effort, Chan drags his eyes from Mark's to look for a staff, only to find the entire wing empty save for them. Before he can ask, Mark clears his throat.

"Everyone went over to the other wing. Someone fainted," he supplies. Chan pushes the fact that neither of them blink at the statement to the back of his mind. "I could… I could help you, though?"

It takes Chan less than a second to nod, maybe a little too eagerly. "Yeah, that would be great."

Maybe Chan's eyes betray him, but despite the dim lighting he could swear that Mark is blushing. "I'll get the first aid kit, then."

While Mark walks off towards the hallway, most likely to the bathroom near the dressing rooms, Chan sits on the stairs. Partly to make it easier for Mark to patch him up when he returns, partly because, now that he is gone, Chan feels like his legs might give out underneath him any second. He isn’t sure if it’s because of the blood loss or the intensity of Mark's stare. Maybe a mix of both.

It doesn't take long for Mark to come back and he doesn't waste a second as he places the first aid kit on the step next to Chan, carefully rummaging through its contents. After a second, he takes out a cotton swab and douses it in alcohol. 

Mark seems to hesitate before bringing it close to Chan's ear, but before he can even open his mouth to reassure him, Mark is already leaning in, cupping Chan's jaw gently. He prays that Mark can’t hear the way his breath hitches. 

Chan flinches when Mark presses the cotton swab against his skin, but Mark's hand is there to prevent his head from moving. Even though Mark apologizes, Chan can hear him chuckling softly right next to his ear. It gives him goosebumps.

"Oh!" Mark exclaims animatedly after a few seconds of cleaning. "The cut isn't as bad as it seems."

Chan can only manage to hum in response. From this angle, he can feel Mark's breath fan over his cheek, warming over his skin. If he looks down, Mark's lips will be directly in his field of vision. It's taking all of Chan's effort to keep his eyes trained on the spot right above Mark's shoulder. 

Mark is gentle as he keeps cleaning Chan's wound, hands pressing the cotton softly against his skin. He even goes as far as cleaning the blood that had mixed with his sweat, gently wiping all the way down Chan's neck, though his other hand never leaves Chan's jaw where it gently cups it.

Mark remains silent as he rubs antiseptic cream into Chan's ear, so tenderly he has to fight the shiver that runs down his spine. They had almost managed to create a bubble, where only the sound of their breathing encompassed them as Mark's fingers pressed against Chan's jaw before tenderly caressing the back of his neck. It's almost shocking when he presses a plaster against Chan's ear, pulling away. Chan hopes he's not reading too much into the situation when it seems like Mark is almost hesitant to do so. 

Mark clears his throat. "You should get that checked out later. It doesn't look too bad but, you know, just in case."

"Thank you," Chan says, and holds on to the railings at the sides of the stairs, both to ground himself and push his body back to standing. It brings him face to face with Mark, a little too close for comfort, but maybe that’s the last thing Chan wants. 

Mark only nods and takes a step back, but he trips and, without thinking, Chan leans forward, wrapping an arm around Mark’s waist and pulling him forward. With their chests pressed together, Chan can feel Mark's lungs expand as he takes in a deep breath. For a moment they just stare at each other, until Chan hears Soonyoung bellow "Carats!" into the mic right above him and he's pulled back into reality — they're at a concert and he has a stage to get back on. He let's go of Mark's waist. 

"Thank you," he says again, though it comes out as no more than a whisper, and rushes back up the stairs to the sound of Mark's "No problem!" and a suspicious amount of footsteps echoing back at him.

As soon as he steps back on-stage, the crowd cheers and the backing track for Aju Nice starts to play, and it's all Chan needs to pop his in-ears back in and hook his mic back into place, jumping along with his hyungs as he hypes the crowd. _It feels great_ , he thinks. _But nothing can compare to the adrenaline he feels being close to Mark Lee._

They finish their set without further incident and, as he descends the stairs pressed close to Mingyu, Chan wonders at how quickly the wings filled up again. A few staff members rushe around as the next performers chat among themselves, waiting for their turn to go on-stage. 

It isn’t hard to find Mark among the controlled chaos. He is only a few steps away from where Chan had last seen him, at the bottom of the stairs, gesticulating cutely with his hands as he converses with someone he vaguely recognizes as Taeyong. He looks up as soon as Chan reaches the last step, offering him a smile. It's private, like there is a secret between the two of them, and it makes warmth pool at the pit of Chan's stomach. He can't help but smile back.

SEVENTEEN don't have any more schedules after the Dream Concert and Chan feels like he's back to square one. He's crushing _hard_ on Mark and there's nothing he can do about it. Thinking about his smile and the gentle brush of his fingertips against his jaw every night before he goes to sleep isn't really helping.

When Chan is at the brink of desperation, he finds Junhui sitting on his bed, scrolling idly through his phone after a particularly grueling dance practice, and instead of the expected annoyance, Chan feels like a lightbulb goes off in his head.

"Hyung!" he calls.

Junhui jumps, dropping his phone on the bed as his hand comes up to clutch at his chest. He looks at Chan warily when he answers, "Yes?"

Chan ignores it. "You're friends with some of the guys from NCT, right?"

Junhui's brow furrows in confusion, but he graces Chan with the same answer as before. "Yes?"

"Good," Chan says, and sits at the end of the bed. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure?"

"Help me get Mark Lee's number."

Junhui blinks once, twice. "Have you considered just asking him for it?"

"Hyung," he groans, flopping on his back and narrowly avoiding smacking his hand against Junhui's phone, who snatches it back as he sends Chan a dirty look. "If it was that easy I would've already done it."

Junhui nods pensively for a moment before asking, "Why do you want his number, anyway?"

Chan averts his gaze. "Just because."

Instead of answering, Junhui assesses Chan for a moment before leaning back against the headboard. He sounds slightly amused when he says, "This is a new development."

Chan fiddles with the edge of the quilt in an effort to avoid meeting Junhui's eyes. It's bright blue, faded yellow stars dotting the seams where they seem to be the most frayed. "We need to get new bedding soon," he says.

"Don't try to change the subject," Jun scolds softly. Suddenly, there's something warm on Chan's thigh and he looks up only to find Jun's hand resting gently on it. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Chan lets his head fall back into the mattress. His first instinct is to scream 'No!', run away and pretend the conversation didn't happen. Junhui would indulge him because he's a great hyung like that, but his desperation to meet Mark Lee — and pin him against the wall and press their lips together — might be driving him insane because instead he says, "I met him in the bathroom at MuCore a while ago."

Junhui snorts and mutters, "Classy," but there's nothing judgemental about his tone so Chan braves on as he studies the bed frame above him. 

"And I thought he was so annoying at first but then we kept meeting again and again, and then he was the one who helped me when I cut my ear at the Dream Concert and then I realized that maybe I like him more than I'm annoyed by him. But he's still a little annoying."

Junhui pats his thigh reassuringly. "Sure he is," he says in a voice that suggests he thinks Chan is lying through his teeth. And maybe he is, but he wouldn't want Junhui to know that so instead he fixes him with the most unimpressed glare he can muster in his state of sadness. It's kind of pitiful.

Junhui seems to notice this because he sends Chan a bright grin, patting his thigh once more. "Don't worry, Channie. Hyung will help you get your man." 

"Thank you, hyung," he says, finally turning to look at him. He hopes his eyes convey how much he actually means it. "Now can you get off my bed, please?"

"Nope."

Exactly one week after Chan admits his crush on Mark and asks for Junhui's help, Junhui barges into his room, takes one look at his still pajama-clad body — it's barely 1 p.m. on their day off, he can afford to be a slob for one day — and tells him to get dressed. Before Chan can even begin to question him, Junhui raises a hand to shut him up.

"We're getting hotpot," he says. " _And_ I'm getting you a date. So dress nice, but not too much. Maybe wear those jeans that make your ass look nice. Don't look at me like that, we both know it's true."

So he does as he’s told and less than an hour later he’s standing outside the restaurant, clad in the ass-flattering jeans, a mask, and a bucket hat Minghao had thrown at him as soon as he had walked out of his room. Chan huddles close to both him and Junhui as they wait for Mark and his friends, trying and failing to not panic at the mere thought that he was about to sit down with his _crush_ to have _dinner_ and was later expected to ask for his phone number, maybe even a _date_. Chan could feel his brain quickly overheating under the pressure the longer they stood outside. It wasn't even a long wait, but the anticipation burning at the back of Chan’s throat made it seem like an eternity until finally there was a black car rounding the curve, out of which came three figures donning the same face mask and bucket hat combo as the rest of them.

Greeting them is awkward, maybe a little more than it should have been when Renjun and Chenle had visited their dorm multiple times, but Chan chucks it all up to his own nervousness. He doesn’t know if he can say the same about his shaking hands when Mark smiles at him as they greet each other, like he was sharing a secret.

Making their way inside, they greet the ajumma at the counter, who seems to know not only Junhui and Minghao, but also Renjun and Chenle. She welcomes them with practiced warmth and fond exasperation, gushing about their "new friends" and quickly ushers them to a table towards the back, guaranteeing them privacy and great service.

When they reach the table, Junhui not so discreetly pushes Chan towards the booth and makes him get in first, forcing him to shuffle all the way to the wall. It seems like Renjun and Chenle have the same idea, because soon after Mark is shuffling all the way down the opposite seat, settling right in front of Chan.

Chan scrambles to say something, opening his mouth and closing it a few times, only to look up and find Mark doing the exact same thing. All the bravery from their secret grin has seemingly vanished, but Chan just finds it cuter than he should. They grin at each other like fools before bursting out into an awkward giggle, unintentionally but successfully breaking the tension coursing between them. 

Finally feeling like he’s able to breathe a little easier, Chan grapples for a question to ask, when Mark’s phone starts ringing rather loudly from beside him. He gives Chan an apologetic smile before checking the caller ID and cursing softly. It sounds so hot it should be illegal.

“Hyung?” Mark asks softly when he answers. He starts nodding and making sounds of assent, but suddenly Mark’s eyes widen and, what Chan assumes what had been a pleasant conversation seems to turn sour. Mark bites his lip worriedly as his eyes cloud over. 

“Right now?” he asks, and Chan feels like he’s imagining the hint of disappointment in his voice. “Yeah, no, it’s fine, I get it. See you in a while, then.”

After hanging up Mark looks at his phone, resting on the palm of his hand, as if it had personally wronged him to a great degree. Chan feels like, soon, he might share the sentiment. 

Mark turns in his seat, nudges Renjun, who had previously been engaged in deep conversation with Junhui, and whispers something in his ear that makes Renjun’s face fall, a small pout forming on his lips. “Really?” he whispers, and Mark nods. “Right now?”

Mark drapes a hand across Renjun’s shoulders and gives him a nod, a similar pout taking form on his lips. Chan wishes he could wipe it off, not only because he takes an instant dislike to whatever is making Mark sad, but also for the sake of his own sanity. Those lips are too damn perfect. “Sorry, Injunnie,” Mark laments. “I’ll make it up to you next time.”

Renjun just shakes his head and pushes Chenle out of the booth, almost making him faceplant the floor between tables. He looks like he’s about to protest before he sees the dejected look on both Mark’s and Renjun’s faces. Chenle’s own pleasant expression twists into a frown. “What’s wrong?”

Renjun occupies himself with shuffling out of the booth while Mark sends Chenle, and everyone else, an apologetic smile, bowing slightly. “I just got called into the studio,” he says, rather sadly. “There’s some recordings I need to re-do at the last minute. I’m really sorry I have to leave like this.”

Mark makes it a point to look each of them in the eyes, and Chan, maybe a little selfishly, latches on to the fact that Mark held his eyes a little longer than he should. Especially when he is still looking at him as he says, “I hope we can do this again sometime.”

Junhui and Minghao reassure him, telling Mark it’s fine and inviting him out again soon, but Chan only chooses to send him a smile, hoping it’s enough for Mark to know he really doesn’t mind. Mark returns it over Chenle’s shoulder when the other rushes to hug him. He giggles softly and whispers, “It’s not like I’m going away forever, Lele.”

Maybe he imagines the wink Mark throws at him before turning around to walk away, phone once again pressed against his ear, but Chan decides that letting his mind deceive him is not that bad, anyway. 

It’s hard, but he tries not to let the dejection of a lost opportunity get to him. At least the hot pot was good. And he couldn’t deny Chenle and Renjun were fun to be around. 

Towards the end of the afternoon, just as they’re all about to go their own ways, Chan startles when Chenle, rather secretively, asks him for his phone. “I want to have your number, hyung,” he says, hands reaching out in expectation. “I’ll text myself from your phone.”

Chan finds it a little odd. It’s not like he dislikes Chenle, but they didn’t have a particularly strong connection. Chan concedes anyway and hands him his phone, unlocked.

It’s to his great surprise when he unlocks his phone in the car that he doesn’t find Chenle’s number saved, but instead the name Mark Lee accompanied by a heart struck through with an arrow glares back at him in the darkness of the back seat. 

Instead of an address, there’s a note from Chenle: _Text him soon, hyung_.

Chan doesn’t text him. He would like to think it’s not him being a coward, but rather a thing about courtesy. If getting Mark’s number was that easy, Jun could’ve just texted Renjun or Chenle and given it to Chan himself and that would be it, right? No need to arrange a sort-of-date. It would be weird, anyway, to just text Mark out of the blue when they haven’t ever had a proper conversation. So, Chan limits himself to opening Mark’s contact time and time again, staring at the heart like it had personally placed him in his current situation.

SEVENTEEN are at _Show! Music Core_ again, starting promotions for their newest release, and the entirety of Chan’s focus is on getting on-stage. His hands shake in anticipation, nervous energy building in the pit of his stomach. No matter how many times he gets on-stage, it's always the same, but Chan doesn't think he could ever get tired of it. After all, it’s the reason he wanted to become an idol; it never gets boring. 

Everything around him seems muffled and slow-motion as he waits to get called on-stage. Chan doesn’t think anything can break his focus until someone bumps into him, knocking into his shoulder, and he's about to let it go until, from his periphery, he catches the familiar slope of broad shoulders, the back of a head he could never mistake for anyone else.

Before his mouth can catch up with his brain, he calls: "Mark!"

Regret settles deep in his chest when Jeonghan sends him a curious look, but all of it is forgotten the moment Mark turns around and he's met with a look of confusion, which slowly turns into one of surprise and, finally, into one of delight. Chan's heart all but explodes in his chest at the absolute elation that seeing Mark make that expression brings him, an expression directed at _him_. Chan might actually die.

"Um," he utters intelligently, because, really, he'd had no plan and nothing to say the moment he had called out to Mark. All he wanted was to see his face, but, damn, did that render him speechless. It was sort of counterproductive. 

Chan wills his brain to pull itself together. "Hi. It's… nice to see you here."

Not even the dim lighting in the hallway could hide Mark's ears as they slowly turn red. It makes Chan strangely pleased to know that he's not the only one flustered by the encounter, even if he was the one who initiated it.

"You too," Mark says, and brings a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. Chan has already seen him doing it a couple of times, but he’ll never stop thinking it’s cute. "Are you on soon?" 

"Yeah," Chan replies. It comes out a little more breathless than he would like.

Mark doesn't seem to notice, or rather chooses not to acknowledge it, much to Chan's relief, because he nods and continues almost immediately. "We're on right after, I think."

It seems like Mark is scrambling for something else to say and, suddenly panicked, Chan says, "Wait!" maybe a little too loudly for the little hallway they're encased in. 

It draws a snicker from behind him and, slightly mortified, Chan notices they've racked up quite the audience. Not only are almost all of his members gathered up behind him, pretending to be casual despite the fact that Jeonghan can't seem to stop snickering even with Joshua repeatedly smacking him, but there's also a few of Mark's own members pretending to talk near them, but their conversation is far too spaced out to be anything but a ruse. Chan can feel the stare of a particularly purple haired guy burning into his cheek. He chooses to ignore it in favor of staring at Mark again. 

The mix of confusion and intrigue dancing in his eyes is almost too much for Chan to bear, especially with both groups staring them down as they are, and Chan feels words die in his throat as he clears it, cheeks burning with the embarrassment of the entire situation. 

"Uh, good luck," he says finally, rather lamely. He feels like crawling into a hole and disappearing for the rest of his puny, insignificant life. "When you go on-stage, I mean."

If possible, Mark's ears seem to redden even further. So, not a total loss it seems. "Yeah, you too," he smiles and Chan all but melts on the spot. "See you around," he finishes off, almost hesitantly. 

"Yeah," Chan agrees, almost in a daze. "See you around."

Chan watches as Mark retreats back to his members and thanks all his lucky stars that they're almost out of sight when Jihoon bursts into laughter behind him. Someone makes a futile attempt at shushing him, but before long more than half his hyungs have dissolved into giggles and, although Chan's pride physically prevents him from turning around, he feels the back of his neck heat up viciously. 

Suddenly, something warm crashes into his back. It almost sends him flying forward, and he would have been if it weren't for the arms wrapping around his chest. "Don't worry," Soonyoung whispers into his ear, patting Chan's chest comfortingly. He hates how easily it works to calm him down, how readily he melts into his hyung's arms. "You'll get him eventually, tiger." And then Soonyoung, too, dissolves into giggles.

Eventually comes sooner than Chan expects it to, considering his luck. It's barely a week after the embarrassing run-in with Mark when he's exiting the _Inkigayo_ bathroom stall and sees Mark right in front of him, washing his hands. It's quite ironic, really. 

Mark looks up to meet his eyes and Chan barely manages to breathe out a small 'hi', too caught up with staring. It wasn't the first time Chan was seeing Mark all ready to get up on stage, but usually he was wearing casual clothes or the classic velvet suit. Last time he had seen him he was wearing some sort of karate style uniform that he looked sort of cute in. But Chan had never seen him dressed like this.

He was wearing a loose leather shirt, strapped close to his chest with a harness, and adorned by a few chains. Chan didn't dare look further down, afraid to see the way that Mark’s pants hugged his waist and legs. The outfit showed off Mark’s figure perfectly and, wow, his ass looked amazing. 

Looking back up, Chan could see Mark appraising him through the mirror, more or less the same way he was, eyes hungrily taking in the sight of Chan in his own stage outfit. There was a tingling sensation running from his shoulder blades to the tips of his fingers and, without much thinking, he blurts: "Do you want to go on a date with me?"

At the same time, Mark asks, "Can I have your phone number?"

Wide eyed, Chan looks up to see Mark mirroring his expression. Mark's lips twitch up and that was enough to send Chan into a fit of laughter, almost doubling over with the force of it, part relief and part disbelief. 

Mark's giggles join him not a second after and Chan felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest. When they came down from the high of it, Chan couldn't help but take a second to look at Mark, drinking in the fond expression. He took a second to burn it in his own memory, make a special place in his mind to save it and stow it away.

When Mark spoke, he sounded just like Chan felt, like he was living an out of body experience. "I had been waiting a long time to do that, you know?"

It felt like a punch to Chan's gut, but the good kind. The _'I can't believe this is happening to me'_ kind. "Really? Me too."

Mark, for some reason, seems shocked by his statement. "Wait, seriously? I didn't think you would be interested."

Chan frowns, taking a step closer to Mark. He's delighted when Mark does the same. "Why would you think that?"

"I…" Mark starts, but trails off and a blush rises up to his cheeks. Chan kind of wants to make him blush like that forever. "Chenle told me he gave you my number. Since you never texted, I thought…"

Mark doesn't really need to say anything else for Chan to feel like a total idiot. "I… I did have it but I thought it would be weird to just text you like that? I had no idea Chenle told you he gave me your number." God, now he felt like a total asshole. "I'm so sorry."

Mark just laughs, bright and pure and it kind of reminds Chan of the sun rising behind a grey cloud. "Oh, god, no it's fine! Chenle can be like that. I think it's kind of nice that we did it this way."

They each took one step closer. It was kind of a pity that Chan wasn't brave enough to close the distance. He would be one day soon. "Yeah… Yeah I'm kind of glad we did it this way, too." Chan smiles. "I'll text you, then? For our date."

Mark's cheeks puff up as he smiles, too, and Chan has to resist the urge to pinch them. "Yeah… I'll be waiting." 

He seems hesitant before turning around but before Chan can ask what's wrong, Mark decisively presses his lips softly to Chan's cheek. It’s an almost ghostly touch, leaving Chan dizzy on the spot with the smell of Mark's cologne and the feeling of his breath against his neck. 

"See you soon,” Mark says, as if he hadn’t just completely shattered Chan’s world, and then he turns around and practically runs out of the bathroom, leaving Chan staring back at his own shocked reflection through the mirror. 

"Yeah," he whispers, and only the bathroom echoes his own voice back at him. "See you soon."

**Author's Note:**

> yes, that was definitely mark's punch outfit at the end.
> 
> thank you so much for reading! feel free to leave comments and kudos <3
> 
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